


baby, set my heart on fire (or maybe just set it to lukewarm)

by constellation_composer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Baking, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Valentine's Day, accidentally coming out to your brother at midnight while baking for your boyfriend, anyway, can't imagine why that's not a tag, no literally its just valentines fluff, poor icey just cannot cope with his own gay or anyone elses, poor son, well ok ig theres some, what a common trope lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22804093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellation_composer/pseuds/constellation_composer
Summary: Marlo just wanted to make Aine a present in peace.--meant to post this on valentine's but i was Scared(TM) so you get it now enjoy
Relationships: Greenland & Iceland (Hetalia), Greenland (Hetalia)/Northern Ireland (Hetalia), Norway/Belarus (implied)
Kudos: 10





	baby, set my heart on fire (or maybe just set it to lukewarm)

**Author's Note:**

> marlo is my greenland oc and aine is my northern ireland oc and theyre both absurdly short and gay thank you for coming to my tedtalk

The best (or maybe not best, but debatably funniest) part of walking in and hearing the clatter in the kitchen, in Eiríkur's opinion, was checking his clock and seeing that it was 23:03. "Whatcha making?" Marlo hardly glanced up at the voice, busy stirring something. He didn't answer. Eiríkur huffed a bit and pulled himself up on the counter. He stuck out a finger to try and steal something batter, but Marlo jerked the bowl away.

"Hey, no," he snapped, holding it to his chest protectively. "Not for fingers. Germs aren't in the recipe."

Eirí fought the urge to pout and crossed his arms. "Well, what are you making, then? Had to find out somehow." Marlo rolled his eyes, setting the bowl back on the counter.

"Biscuits," he replied tonelessly, mixing it some more. "Chocolate. And not for you."

Eiríkur gave him a scandalized look. "How can you make chocolate biscuits and say they're not for me? And here I thought you loved me."

Marlo gave him a weird look. "Why the hell'd you think that?" Eiríkur stuck his tongue out. Marlo returned it before turning in a circle, looking for something. “Where do we keep baking sheets?” Eiríkur shrugged, not bothering to get off the counter.

“Probably same place we always have,” he replied, which was supremely unhelpful, as neither of them actually knew where that was. Marlo cast him a dirty look and set the bowl on the counter, crouching down to start opening random cabinets. Eiríkur  
capitalised on his distraction to lean over and swiping some of the batter.

“I hate you,” Marlo said from the floor. Eiríkur shrugged.

“Oops.”

Marlo stood back up with a baking sheet and slammed it on the counter with much more force than necessary. “Get out, you’re a nuisance.” Eiríkur made a face and didn’t budge. Marlo huffed. “Be useful then, at least,” he muttered. “Hold this.” He handed him a bowl of unidentifiable blue… something. Eiríkur squinted at it, trying to identify it. Icing? No, definitely not. Whatever it was, he didn’t trust it. “Take the bowl off your head.”  
“Fuck you,” Eiríkur replied, crossing his arms and continuing to balance it on his head. Marlo flipped him off without looking over and began pressing out the biscuits. “Why are you making these, anyway?”

Marlo froze for a moment, almost imperceptibly quick, then shrugged. “Oh. You know.”

Eiríkur blinked. “No?” He gave him a weird look. “Weirdo.” Marlo looked up and stared at him for a long moment before sighing and going back to work. “What’d I do?” Marlo ignored him. He crossed his arms. “Ok, fine. Keep your secrets.”

“I’m entitled to six secrets a day and you legally can’t blame me for any of them,” Marlo said, which was infinitely weirder to hear in his utterly flat tone. God, Eiríkur needed a normal sibling. For his own sake. Elli was normal enough (most days, at least), but he always brought his friends around, and they unnerved Eiríkur to an unnatural degree. Not that there was anything wrong with them, really, but they took over the living room to watch cartoons, and he didn't think that was what normal 14 year olds did. When he was 14, he laid in his room and cried to Blue Öyster Cult. What was wrong with kids these days? Lukas wasn't so bad, but only 'cause he was never around. Always at Matthias's, or at work, or at his girlfriend's house, although Eiríkur had never met her and could never remember her name. She made dumplings was all he knew, and that was all he felt that he needed to know, so he was content. And Marlo was… well, he was Marlo. He hid in his room and stole Eiríkur's band t-shirts and refused to share his cool shoes and baked biscuits for secret reasons at 11 pm. And yeah, ok, maybe Eiríkur hated him a bit, and maybe Marlo hated him a bit in return, but they were twins, weren't they? That meant they had to deal with Lukas together. What a bond to have.

Eiríkur kicked at Marlo's shoulder. "You're an asshole."

"Mhm."

"And a dumbass."

"Mhm."

"And a jerk."

"Mhm."

"And that's my shirt."

Marlo apparently declined to answer that, instead shrugging noncommittally and pulling open the oven. He stuck his hand in it to check the temperature- even though the stove said the temperature, so what the fuck was the point of that- and placed the biscuits in. He straightened and wiped his hands on his jeans; there were two streaks of white, flour or something, left on the black fabric, that he just looked at and sighed. "Is Lukas home?"

Eiríkur shrugged. "Dunno, I just got here. Prolly not, though." Marlo crossed himself in something that looked like relief. "We're not Catholic, stop doing that."

"And you're not gay, but you listen to Fall Out Boy," Marlo retorted. Eiríkur opened his mouth to point out that hey, wait, Marlo listened to Fall Out Boy too, and he owned merch, which was even worse, but he was interrupted by the blast of a trumpet. He flinched without meaning to at the burst of sound, almost falling off the counter. Marlo sighed and fished in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He brushed his hair out of his hands before accepting the call, leaving another streak of white across his forehead. 

Eiríkur sniggered quietly. Marlo stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, yeah, what?" he said into the phone, frowning. "Why'd you- we have a bus system, babe."

Babe? Eiríkur raised an eyebrow, suddenly intrigued. A girlfriend, perhaps? Who the hell could stand Marlo?

His brother caught sight of his expression and rolled his eyes. "I- babe- babe, it's literally almost midnight. No, Lukas isn't h- oh, give up on that, he wasn't trying to kill you, it was an accident. He doesn't even know you." He glanced at the oven. "Uh, sure, I guess, yeah. Love you too." He hung up and pointed at Eiríkur threateningly. "No."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Eiríkur asked. Marlo rolled his eyes again, probably at the disgust in his tone.

"I- no. I don't. Just shut up, will you?" That wasn't very persuasive, but Eiríkur obliged. "Just go to your room or something."

Eiríkur was about to retort, but the sound of the front door opening caught his attention. Lukas always knocked before he came in, even though it was literally his apartment, owned by him under law, and he never waited for anyone to open it for him, just knocked and strolled in; another one of his odd habits that made him vaguely offsetting to be around.

Marlo looked suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, and he coughed awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "Maybe just… go?" he said. His accent had thickened- Eiríkur's did that too when he got nervous, but what the fuck was Marlo nervous about?  
Before Eiríkur had a chance to decide whether he was going or staying, their visitor came round the corner, and everything made much less sense. Marlo gave Eiríkur a weak, awkward grin, and gestured towards Aine, who seemed to have picked up on the weird atmosphere.

Eiríkur blinked once. Then twice. Then- oh. Oh, ok. "I, uh… I should go," he said, sliding off the counter. He gave them an awkward thumbs up and a stilted grin before scrambling for his room.

Oh. Oh fuck.

\---

Marlo pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. "Fuck. I knew he'd be like that." Aine hesitantly patted his shoulder. Marlo grabbed his hand and turned around so that he could press himself against his boyfriend, lacing their fingers together. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Aine agreed with a sigh. One hand came up to move through Marlo's hair gently. "Fuck, indeed." He sniffed. "This is all very awkward and shit, but in greater priorities... I smell chocolate?"

Marlo snorted, poking at his side. "Yeah, you do. Can't distract you for a moment, can I?" He tilted his head up to kiss Aine's cheek and patted his hip before pulling away. "Made biscuits. They'll be done in a minute. Tea?"

Aine pulled out a chair and sat down. "What kind?" Marlo shrugged, opening a random cabinet. The tea was scattered all over the kitchen, since Lukas was the one that always bought it and he refused to organise. "Uh, here's a random mint one I've never seen before."

"Sounds good to me!" Aine agreed cheerfully, tilting his chair back. "We're not allowed to have mint in my house."

Marlo looked around for the teapot. Where the fuck- oh, yes, on top of the fridge. He clambered onto the counter. "Someone's allergic, aren't they?"

"Yeah, Arthur's allergic to everything," he said with a sigh. "He's allergic to the dog too, but Mum said that he just has to live with it. Pisses him off."

"Doesn't everything piss him off?" Marlo pointed out. Aine opened his mouth, reconsidered, closed it again, and nodded. "He yelled at me for not recycling once. At school. In the courtyard. Where we haven't got recycling."

"Sounds like him," Aine agreed. Marlo left the water heating and crossed the room again, settling himself onto Aine's lap. "Oh, hello."

"Hello," he replied, laughing a little, and then leant in for a kiss. "Missed you."

Aine raised an eyebrow. "It's been two days."

" _Two_ long," Marlo retorted, and then kissed him again so that he couldn't be heard laughing at his own pun. "You're rude and mean. Spend more time with me."

"I wasn't in the _country_ ," Aine protested. "I had to do things."

Marlo huffed. "Too bad. Should've brought me with you, then." Aine laughed, cupping Marlo's face in his hands.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too," he whispered, like it was a secret. Marlo couldn't help but grin. "But at least I'm back for Valentine's!" Marlo shrugged, poking his nose.

"Valentine's is cheesy," he muttered. The biscuits went off. "Dumb holiday." He climbed off Aine to pull open the oven.

"Put on oven gloves," Aine warned. Marlo gave him a look. "I've seen you try it before, I'm justified. Put on the damn gloves." Marlo huffed and pulled on the oven mitts before he took out the tray, setting it on the stovetop. "Thank you. What are these for?"

Marlo crossed his arms. "Who said they had to be for anything?" Aine hummed, crossing the room to peer at him. "Don't eat one yet, they're hot."

"I do get one, though?" Aine asked, and Marlo looked away, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eyes again. He mumbled something. Aine tilted his head. "Huh?"

"I said they're for you," he snapped, turning a brilliant shade of red. "It's- I wanted to make you something."

Aine was a bit silent for a moment, and Marlo was worried that he'd gone and been too cheesy, but then two arms snuck around his waist, and he tugged Marlo against his chest, grinning widely into his hair. "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable?"

"You have," he muttered in reply, and wriggled around so that he could hide in Aine's shoulder. "...Love you."

"I love you too."

\---

Why was he feeling so uncomfortable with it? Eiríkur stared at the ceiling, his earbuds in and playing music he wasn't listening to. He hadn't cared about this sort of thing before. He knew gay people! He had seen gay people on TV! He'd- he'd seen those two girls holding hands in the square, and all he'd thought about was how cute the blonde's skirt was! So why did it matter now? Why did he feel like he wanted to crawl out of his skin?

He groaned out loud and doubled up into a sitting position, burying his face in his knees. "Fucking hell," he muttered. It was just a thing. So his brother was gay. Cool. Whatever.

Whatever. Moving on from that. He checked his phone and saw a text from Leon.

_leon: hey wanna come over?_

He snickered, shaking his head. (And a simple text improved his mood so much.)

_eiríkur: it's literally midnight_

_leon: yeah and im literally bored_

_leon: im home alone so nobody is gonna yell at us or anything come onnnnnnnnnnnnn_

_eiríkur: ok ok ok ok_

_eiríkur: fine_

One night away won't hurt. And besides, it's Leon, and he can't say no to Leon.

(And now that he's thought of Leon, then maybe a small thought crossed his mind, and maybe now he knows- but he pushed it away with a scowl, because what a fucking weird thing to be thinking about.)

(It's true, though, isn't it?)

**Author's Note:**

> Uh Oh Icey You Are A Gay
> 
> hope you enjoyed !!


End file.
